The Journal of Sara Reid: We Who Remain
by ReidWatson7
Summary: Life for a group of FBI agents changed in a big way when Spencer Reid became his half-sister Sara's legal guardian. Two years later and the team has been through a lot. Reeling from the recent death of Emily Prentiss, those who remain must realize that life marches on. The Journal of Sara Reid sequel and Journal of an FBI Intern reboot- both found on my old account ReidWatson.
1. Cold

_Author's Note: Well, it's been a long time. Once upon a time I was ReidWatson and wrote a few stories about Doctor Spencer Reid and his sister Sara, and had to let them go for awhile. A few weeks ago, to my dismay, I realized I could no longer access my old account, and by extension my stories. So, after a lot of debating, I'm trying this story again. This story will serve as a sequel to The Journal of Sara Reid, and a reboot of the short lived Journal of an FBI Intern. I really hope you guys enjoy, and if any of my old readers are out there, I just want to say thank you for everything. _

Doctor Spencer Reid locked the apartment door's deadbolt and dropped his coat in the hall. It was late in the evening and he had spent the last hour and a half talking to JJ. His limbs were heavy, his eyelids were drooping, and the one thing he wanted to do was collapse on his couch and sleep for six to eight hours straight.

The twenty-nine years old could have dropped onto the couch and fallen asleep very easily if there hadn't been a slight catch in his plan; there was already someone on the couch. He discovered this when said person let out a surprised yell after being sat on.

"WHAT?" Sara yelled, swinging her arms around frantically in the dark.

Spencer, who hadn't quite recovered from the shock of sitting on a person instead of the couch, stumbled backwards and landed painfully on the floor. "It's me!" He shouted back at her. There was now a sharp pain radiating up from his tailbone, which wasn't doing much to improve his mood.

"Shut up!" A muffled voice shouted from the apartment beneath them.

The two Reids were silent for a moment. Spencer sighed and heaved himself up off the floor, rubbing his back. "Nice to see you too." He said sarcastically, sitting down on the couch again; this time not on his half-sister.

"Sorry," She said sheepishly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Then, maybe when she remembered why she'd shouted in the first place, added, "You scared me!"

Spencer shook his head. "Why aren't you in bed?" He asked, looking over the mess on his coffee table.

"Because I don't have to get up early tomorrow, remember?" She answered, picking her glasses up from the table and slipping them on over her ears.

"That's right, how was the last day?"

It was mid-April, and the fifteen year old high school senior had just finished school for spring break. The two week hiatus wouldn't be much of a vacation though, as finals were right around the corner upon their return to school.

"It was alright I guess." She answered shortly. "I got a letter from Georgetown today. They're 'very excited to have me join the Georgetown family this fall!'" She said, mimicking the overly-perky voice of an infomercial salesperson. "You know the Georgetown University mascot is a bulldog?"

"What?" Spencer asked, the soreness in his back giving way to fatigue again.

"Why a bulldog though? It's so lame, Butler University's mascot is a bulldog too. They should at least have something cool, like a giraffe or kangaroo or something."

"I'm getting that you're not too excited about the acceptance letter?" Spencer said, trying to keep from falling asleep after the long day at work and visit with JJ.

Sara sighed and stood up from the couch. She stepped over to one of the many bookshelves in the apartment and went to the one place void of any books, and picked up a silver frame. She looked at it in this light of the street lamps streaming in though the curtains, her back to him. Spencer heard her clear her throat a few times.

"I'm just not interested in anything lately. And, I'm in a bad mood I guess. It's been one month today," She said quietly. She was right, it'd been one month since they'd said goodbye. One month since they'd put her in the ground.

The frame in her hands contained a photograph of four people. The farthest left was the young doctor; his hair had been longer then and gave him a more youthful appearance that matched the smile he wore perfectly. He had his arm draped around his sister's shoulders. Sara was laughing about something the photographer, Penelope, had said. Her hair was being ruffled by Emily- the now late-Emily Prentiss. Emily too, was laughing, brown eyes shining brightly, with one arm thrown carelessly around Derek Morgan's shoulders.

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, feeling that familiar ache he felt whenever Emily was mentioned. It was the same reason he visited or talked to JJ every evening after work: he missed his friend so much it hurt, and it hurt constantly.

"Yeah, I know." He said.

The two fell silent again, both minds racing with memories of their lost friend. Besides the ache in his chest whenever he thought of Emily, there was another feeling there growing steadily worse: craving. In spite of his best efforts, the craving for Dilaudid was still there.

Beginning to feel fidgety from sitting so long, Spencer stood up from the couch and pulled on Sara's shirt sleeve, breaking her out of her thoughts. "You should get to bed." He told her, heading in the direction of his own room.

Sara looked at the photo for another moment before replacing it on the shelf. "Yeah. Ok." She said, stifling a yawn as she followed her brother down the hall. "See you in the morning." She said quietly.

"Yep, goodnight," Spencer said, stopping by his door to let her pass down the hall.

"Night." She said back, slipping into her own room and shutting the door.

-x-X-x-

As soon as the sounds of Spencer getting ready for bed had died away I crept over to me bedroom door. Silently, I pushed it open and slowly began to make my way down the hall, careful to avoid the spots that squeaked. I paused outside Spencer's shut door, straining to hear any movement from within. Hearing nothing, I hurried down the remainder of hallway and into the living room, quickly locating my shoes, keys, bag, and flashlight while making as little noise as possible.

By the time I was out the apartment door and down the first flight of stairs I had relaxed again, confident that Spencer wouldn't catch me out of the house in the middle of the night. He had never caught me before, and I didn't plan on it happening now.

Late night trips on the metro no longer scared me. I attributed most of that to the Glock 17 tucked safely into my waistband whenever I went on these outings. That was one more thing Spencer didn't know.

When I returned to the surface I was on the other side of the city, a few blocks from my destination. The short stretch of city I had to walk did make me panic a little, but the bright yellow street lights reassured me that there was no one lurking nearby. Statistically speaking, there's always lurking in some shadows somewhere, but I was taking chances. The low cemetery wall wasn't much of a challenge to scale after a few weeks of practice.

"I'm on break now, not too long until exams are over, and then I'm graduated. It's uh, still April by the way. I doubt you're keeping track, probably no calendars where you are anyway. You know I was thinking earlier that if you were here we could have taken a trip to the beach if you had time while I was on break. I've never been to a real one, you know. Oh, and I got into Georgetown," I said, pulling the acceptance letter out of my bag.

"Pretty good financial package, but I don't know if I'll go or not. I've got a month to decide anyway. Derek's been telling me to go with my gut, but I'm not really feeling any of the schools. To be honest, I'm not feeling much of anything lately." I said, tracing over the letters on the grave with my fingers. The stone felt cold against my fingertips, even through the numbness in my hands from the chill in the air.

"It's still pretty cold here." I told her. "Not the same without you."

I took the last train back to Van Ness and returned to the apartment. The glimpse of myself that I caught in the mirror told me that my nose and cheeks were red, which meant my face was cold. I couldn't feel the cold though, only numbness. It was decidedly cold for April, and that bothered me more than it should have.

When the Glock 17 had been replaced in the living room drawer, my shoes and bag left in their places by the door, and the apartment locked, I returned to my room and checked the time. It was nearly two in the morning. It had now been more than one month since Emily's funeral. With that in mind I wrapped myself in my quilt, buried myself in pillows, and fell into a restless sleep.

_"Man when he does not grieve, hardly exists."_


	2. Trying to Talk About This

_Author's Note: Here's chapter 2. Already apologizing (that's my nature) for the delay , I'm just trying to work out exactly how I want this to go. No worries though, I won't disappear. Thanks so much for the reviews, it's great to be back. _

Spencer paused outside his sister's door, fist paused mid air a few inches from the hard exterior. He checked his watch again, it was after noon already and there hadn't been a single sound from inside the room all day. That being the deciding factor, he rapped his knuckles against the door, earning a muffled reply from the other side a few seconds later.

"I just want to know if you're getting up at any point." Spencer called through the wood, straining to hear anything from the room's interior.

The door cracked open, Sara's tired, glasses-less face appearing in the door frame a moment later. "You know I'm on break, right?" She asked dryly, her voice still groggy.

"Yeah I know. But, its 12:30; I thought you might be hungry, or that you might want to hang out for awhile? Morgan said we could stop by his place for a-"

"I'm not really up for visiting today," Sara cut him off. She offered a small smile that didn't meet her eyes. "I'm just sorta under the weather, you know?" She added quickly, shuffling her bare feet against the hard-wood floor.

Spencer nodded, doing his best not to analyze her face too much, almost afraid of the pain he'd find there. He knew his sister had been struggling since Emily's passing, and he knew how desperately she tried not to show it. The weepy moments were few and far between that he knew of, yes, but since Emily died the life had gone out of Sara too.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said. "But, uh, we're low on food and... well, everything. I was wondering if you'd run to the store with me? I'll wait for you to get ready," He said, nodding at the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants his sister wore.

Seeing that he was not going to give up on getting her out of her room, Sara nodded. "Yeah, yeah, just give me a few minutes," she said, and shut the door.

-x-X-x-

"I was thinking you could help Garcia make something for JJ's birthday? It's coming up pretty soon," Spencer said as he and his sister wandered aimlessly through the baking aisle. They'd already collected the groceries they needed, enough to last two weeks, assuming Spencer would be on a case at some point. For some reason, even with the milk in their cart getting warm, Spencer was dragging the trip out.

"Maybe, but she usually has that sort of thing covered," Sara answered, pushing the cart so that the wheels lined up exactly with the floor tiles.

"We've missed you at work, you know. I wish you'd come in with me soon," Spencer said. Sara made a noncommittal sound, stopping to look at a selection of birthday candles. "JJ, and Hotch, and well, everyone's been asking after you. I think even Anderson misses you."

Spencer saw her smirk at that, catching the expression from the side. Sara had been doing her best not to let him see her face when they talked about these kinds of things.

"Maybe. I don't really want to go to the BAU, Spencer."

They walked for a few minutes in silence, leaving the grocery department and walking though the furniture section.

"I'm worried about you," Spencer said, stopping them in an empty aisle.

"I know." Seeing the look on her brother's face she added quickly, "I'm fine Spence, really."

"No, you're really not. How much sleep are you getting?"

"Plenty."

"When was the last time you saw or spoke to your friends? Allison, or Katie or Ellen?"

"They're busy with school stuff," Sara answered.

"Busier than you? Sara you're graduating two years early and you have all the free time in the world. What about John? I haven't heard anything about him in a month." Spencer rarely mentioned Sara's boyfriend, so this was a surprise.

"We see each other at school," Sara answered defensively, turning slightly red in the face. "Why does it matter, Spence?"

"It matters because you're withdrawing. You barely leave the apartment unless you have to, you're mood changes constantly, and you don't talk things out with me like you used to. Sara, I know you're hurting, but you need to get back into the world."

"Spencer how many times do I have to say it? I'm fi-" Sara began to say, much more loudly than expected. She cut herself off when she noticed that other people had entered the aisle, a woman and a teenage boy. "Can we just go home now?" She muttered quietly, giving her brother a pointed look.

Spencer though, was distracted by the pair that had entered the aisle with them, the brunette woman and the teenager who was almost Spencer's height. "Sarah Hillridge?" He called out.

The woman turned abruptly, a hand going to her son's shoulder. Her expression shifted from startled to surprised, and she stepped towards them. "Agent…"

"Doctor Reid, from the BAU, we met last year. How are you?" Spencer said quickly, walking towards Mrs. Hillridge and her son.

Sara followed, transfixed on the young man with her. "Hi," Sara said quietly.

"Mrs. Hillridge, this is my sister, Sara. Sara this is-"

"Charlie, we met," Charlie said. "You're taller."

They had met.

Sara was taller.

Just over a year before by an elevator at the BAU.

They both remembered.

"I still have that card you gave me. It was nice of you," Charlie added, glancing at his mother and Spencer.

"You remember me?" Sara smiled. "You look… better," She said. He did. The first time they'd met Charlie had been exhausted, covered in sweat and a layer of dust, ready to sleep for as long as he was allowed.

"I meant to call Agent Jareau so many times. It's been a busy year," Mrs. Hillridge said apologetically. She unconsciously took Charlie by the hand, and he let her. "I'm just, I'm so grateful to everyone and-"

"Don't mention it," Spencer said reassuringly, holding up a hand. "I hope you're both doing well."

"We are, thank you," Answered Mrs. Hillridge.

"It was very nice to see you both," Spencer said, "But we were just leaving."

"Of course! It was so nice to see you and thank you so much again."

"Goodbye, Sara." Charlie said, smiling softly beneath a mess of brown hair.

"Goodbye, Charlie." Sara said back, and followed her brother to the check out.

-x-X-x-

The red headed cashier continued her painfully slow pace of scanning the Reid's items. She seemed new to the job. The cans of soup on the conveyor belt rattled against each other each time the belt inched forward. Spencer collected the brown paper bags filled with their groceries in his arms, passing a few to Sara.

"We're not done talking about this," He said quietly.

Sara wished they were.

_Suffering is basically the mind's refusal to accept reality as it is _


	3. Maybe

_6x21 The Stranger_

Sara wasn't sure how or why she had ended up in the semi-crowded theater. She was almost certain that the reason she was there had something to do with Garcia bursting into her room with Derek Morgan in tow, filled with demands of attention from "their Pixie/their Glasses/ their Baby Reid." She honestly wasn't sure which of the two had used the most nick names throughout the course of this speech. The reason could also come down to promises of popcorn and candy. Maybe something Garcia had said about Seaver thinking that Sara didn't like her, and that her feelings would be hurt if Sara didn't go with them.

Whatever the reason that Sara had allowed herself to be carried off to the movies with Spencer, Seaver, Morgan and Garcia on a work night probably wouldn't become clear to her, no matter how many times she ran through it in her head. At present she was comfortably seated between Morgan and Seaver, a pail of popcorn balanced on her knee, a pretty good guess at what the twist ending would be, and wondering whether or not Spencer was going to stop messing with his hands and put an arm around Seaver already. Based on the number of times that 'brother' and 'revenge' had been said in various context without much reason, she was fairly certain her guess was accurate. Based on the number of times Sara had seen Spencer watching Seaver in the bull-pen, she was extremely certain he had a thing for her. Not that she'd been able to observe lately.

"It's unnecessary! There's too much blood, and gore, and ugh!" Garcia insisted as the five strolled away from the theater, the technical analyst not having enjoyed the film one iota.

"Garcia, it's a slasher-film, how do you do a slasher-film without violence?" Spencer asked, scarf billowing behind him in the slight breeze.

"You imply it!" Garcia firmly exclaimed.

Morgan sighed, "Baby, the movie is called Slice-6, what were you expecting?"He asked, linking arms with Garcia.

"A… refreshing beverage with a twist of comedy. I'm gonna have nightmares for weeks," she cried.

"With everything we do and see on a daily basis: that got to you?" Seaver asked, glancing over at Spencer.

"Listen, noob. You may be all Sigourney Weaver-ass kicking-tough, which is awesome, but the mystical mavens of innocence, like myself, jump at things that go bump in the night!" Garcia answered.

"Why are you worried? I'm sure that Morgan will protect you; as long as he's not jumping out of his seat like a prepubescent school girl." Spencer said, exchanging another glance with Seaver. He shot a look over his shoulder at Sara, who trailed just behind the group and had not yet joined the conversation.

"The only reason I jumped is because you guys woke me up." Morgan said defensively.

"How could you sleep during that?" Garcia laughed, nudging Morgan in the ribs as they walked.

"Easy! You drag me out after a 12 hour work day. And what, you're telling me that girl didn't know that the unsub was waiting for her upstairs? Come on now."

"Villain," Spencer corrected him.

"What?"

"In movies, the unsubs are called villains," Sara called from behind them.

Morgan grinned and glanced back at the girl. "My bad."

Spencer shot another look at his sister and gestured for her to keep up with the group. "You wanna know why horror movies are so successful?"

"Why is that, genius?" Derek asked teasingly.

Without missing a beat, "They prey on our instinctual need to survive. In tribal days a woman's scream would signal danger and the men would return from hunting to protect their pack. That's why it's always the women and not the men that fall victim to the boogie man," Spencer explained.

"Really? I don't know, Spence. Ingrained need to survive, sure, but it's not like the sound of screaming women provides a lot of positive feedback. People want horror for the adrenaline rush, just like roller coasters and bungee jumping. They want to be scared but in a way they can control, ride the thrill without the negative consequences. We scare ourselves to feel alive," Sara said, now walking alongside Morgan and Garcia. "Besides, I've seen plenty on slasher flicks with male victims. The reason it's almost always a female victim is because for some reason it's easiest for film makers, and viewers, to see women as the helpless ones."

"Fair points on both sides, Reids; leave it to you two to break it down to science. My favorite thing about horror movies is the suspense factor," Seaver jumped in, grinning at Spencer.

"Ah, the ticking clock!"

"The helpless victim walks through the dark, shadows reaching out to get her."

"A sudden noise draws her attention. Is someone there? Or is it just in her head?" Spencer said, making a spooky, far off voice.

"Still, it's totally unrealistic; no one should be walking though a dark alley by themselves at night," Garcia interjected. The slight smile that had found its way to Sara's face faded then, unnoticed by her companions.

Morgan coughed, "Hello?" he said, gesturing around at the alley they were now passing through.

"No one should be walking though a dark alley without a Derek Morgan." Garcia corrected herself

"But the best part of a horror movie is you never know when the end is going to come."

-x-X-x-

Sara Reid looked over her shoulder once more as she made her way to the cemetery later that night. Sara wasn't sure why she was extra cautious tonight as she made her way silently though the dark streets. Maybe it was the wind, adding new sounds to the usually quiet neighborhood. Maybe it was the cool air that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Perhaps it was that stupid movie, or what Spencer and Seaver had said while walking home. And maybe there was someone lurking out there in the dark, Sara would never know.

Maybe it was _just_ the movie that had gotten to her nerves, but Sara moved a little more quickly on her nightly errand than she usually would. Checked over her shoulder a few extra times. Clutched the Glock 17 in her coat pocket a little tighter. Whatever the reason her heart sped a little faster, Sara didn't mind. The racing heart, the sweating palms, and the sounds she was sure that she'd imagined may not have been pleasant feelings, but they were feelings none the less. Sara knew the consequences and she knew the risks, but she felt alive; alone out there in the dark.


End file.
